Muddy Shoes and Happiness

Again, I borrow from Alexander McCall Smith. This time, it's because I've been tracking mud all over the house and my garden is coming together.

I sat in the backyard for a bit this afternoon. Sitting there, looking around, there are some things I like very much about my backyard despite its lack of landscaping and the mud having deposited itself where it shouldn't.

The yard has a certain look and feel. It is our style - The Man and mine - of mostly wild and woolly order. It is created partly by intent and partly by neglect. In the garden's managed chaos, I carved out order with a set of flowers here, some plants there. But it's mostly The Man's influence of designating sections where certain types of plants go that has imposed the most order of the disorganized kind.

I've spent the afternoon edging, weeding, sweeping and getting rid of more garbage. The overall effect of the garden is a reigning in of wilderness, reflecting more of my nature than I readily admit.

This yard is actually quite a marvellous creation. When we bought the house, the yard was nothing more than a mount of dirt, literally. Over the years, we've created a tamed wilderness where blue jays, cardinals, swallows and sparrows fly about, and at night raccoons and skunks come visit.

But the thing is, when I sit there and look at the yard, it speaks to me and tells me what needs to be done to it, and I feel happy.